


Why I Love You

by AnotherHomosexualMale



Category: Looking (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherHomosexualMale/pseuds/AnotherHomosexualMale
Summary: “If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. At least we tried.”Well, it worked out.After Patrick proposes to Richie, Richie wonders why Patrick loves him. Patrick vows to give Richie a reason a day until Richie never doubts that Patrick loves him more than life itself.
Relationships: Richie Donado/Patrick Murray
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. The Proposal

_**Set two years after the movie’s ending scene.** _

Every Sunday morning before anything else, Ricardo “Richie” Donado Ventura makes chilaquiles for both himself and his boyfriend, Patrick. He enjoys cooking, and when he makes them from scratch, the simple motions help him relax from the weeks stress. He uses a recipe his grandmother gave him that reminds him of her and how she made him smile; Now he uses the same recipe to make Patrick smile. Sometimes, maybe once a month, Patrick will wake up earlier and make his own attempt at chilaquiles. They never end up well, often resulting in fond exasperation and soggy, burnt, lumps of wet tortilla. It was on one of these days that the sun suddenly seemed warmer and brighter.

Patrick woke up thanks to the soft sunlight peeking through their curtains. It was nice and serene, and he could hear Richie’s light snores as he held one of Patrick’s pillows. Smiling and running a hand gently through Richie’s tousled hair before pressing a light kiss to his forehead and slipping out. An hour later, Richie woke up and realized he was alone, and had been for a bit if the cold bed was anything to go by. Groaning, he rubbed at his eyes and pulled himself out of bed, walking over to their dresser to grab Patrick's hoodie, and some loose pajama pants.

He could hear Patrick puttering around in their kitchen, and when he remembered what day it was, he ran to the kitchen (After the Great May Mini fire, you could never be too safe). Smoke filled the room, which wasn't a surprise as it happened whenever Patrick cooked anything that wasn't microwavable. Patrick was standing by the counter, covered in sauce, and mixing a big bowl full of ingredients. The counter itself was covered in everything from their fridge, and Richie wondered why Patrick might need ketchup for chilaquiles.

"...Babe? I thought we decided no more chilaquil cooking for you?" Richie quipped, even as he started putting various condiments back into their fridge.

"Well, yeah, but I thought if I tried using an online recipe it might help, but then I lost the online recipe. So, I pulled everything from the fridge to try to remember what I should grab. I think I went wrong when I added seven garlic cloves, but it could have been when I spilled the tomato sauce, and accidentally added the tortilla before frying them... I want to be able to do nice stuff for you sometimes. You always do stuff like this for me." Patrick finished almost shyly.

Richie smiled fondly and took the bowl from Patrick.

"How about we start over and I'll show what we need?"

"But, I'm like 75% sure that this one won't explode!"

Richie snorted, setting the bowl down and taking Patrick’s hand.

"The first problem here is that you're thinking it will explode in the first place. Come on, let’s start over."

So, after they cleaned all the supplies and put almost everything back into the fridge, Richie began to instruct Patrick exactly what he needed to do, but he never touched. Patrick cheered when he pulled the first perfectly done grab of chilaquiles away from the heat, and Richie smiled at his enthusiasm. When the chilaquiles were done and everything was clean, they sat at the table, laughing and stealing bites of each other’s food. After they were done, they went to their living room to watch a TV show for a bit, and Richie cuddled into Patrick’s side.

When Patrick looked at Richie, he couldn't help but be taken away. His beautiful smile as he laughed at something on screen before looking up at Patrick with those gorgeous eyes made Patrick wonder where he would be without Richie. He'd probably be depressed and hating his job. He wouldn't have Sunday chilaquiles, or a best friend. He wouldn't have anyone to tell him good night or I love you. He would be completely lost without Richie, and he didn't want to lose him. Without thinking, the words slipped out of his mouth in a soft gentle tone.

"Will you marry me?"

Richie’s froze, and Patrick could hear his breath catch before he spoke again.

"What?"

Patrick chuckled and kissed Richie, a quick peck on the lips.

"I never want to live without you. You, and your Sunday's chilaquiles, and the way you look in my sweatshirt. I love the way you can always make me smile, and… I- I think that if I couldn't have you, I'd hate myself... So, Richie Donado Ventura, will you marry me?"

Richie knew he could feel his eyes start to water as he nodded and kissed Patrick.

"Yes, Pato. Yes, I'll marry you…"

Patrick held Richie closer and took in his familiar warm scent.

"Thank you."

Richie’s caramel skin blushed as he buried his face in Patrick’s chest.

"Why else do you love me?"

Patrick smirked and pressed a kiss to the top of Richie’s head, coming up with an idea on the spot.

"I'm going to give you a reason every now and then, so you never forget it... I love you more than life, and I never want you to doubt that."

Richie smiled at Patrick’s words.

"Cheesy... But I love you more than life too, Pato."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reason 1: Do you remember our first skype, back when you were in Texas? I do.

When Richie woke up the next day, he yawned contentedly and burrowed into his pillow. It smelled like Patrick and home. He was comfortable until he felt paper crinkle under his face. As he reached up to pull it off, he groaned and read what it was. Instantly, he blushed and laughed softly into the pillow, grinning at what he read.

_'Reason 1: Do you remember our first skype, back when you were in Texas? I do.'_

Back then, Richie had gone to Texas. He had discussed it with Patrick that night after the group late diner/early breakfast in San Francisco, and they both agreed to never lose the bond they had. Richie had moved first, and when he arrived in San Antonio, and stayed at his cousin’s apartment. His internet connection had sucked, and whenever he got angry, his nephews could hear him. The skype had been fine at first, they'd talked some and laughed, but then his connection started lagging, causing Patrick’s face to freeze and the audio to lag behind. He tried to fix it, using every quick fix he could in his quest to talk to Patrick.

Eventually, he gave up and flopped onto his bed, leaving the computer frozen on the skype session that Patrick had undoubtedly ended. He gave a frustrated yell before shoving his face into his pillow and sighing. About two minutes later, his cousin came in concerned about the loud yell she had heard (not that concerned, her children came out of the womb screaming and never stopped since).

"Richie? Are you alright? Did something happen?"

Richie sighed, but answered the woman’s question.

"I was talking to this guy who I like on skype and the connection cut out."

Instantly, her attention was focused on him.

"What’s his name?"

Richie sighed, realizing what he had done and decided to get it over with and tell her everything all at once or she would never leave him alone.

"His name is Patrick. He’s at San Francisco right now… He’s really nice, and funny, and smart… I really like him, and I was trying to talk to him on skype, but the connection made everything freeze… "

His cousin smiled gently. By the way that he spoke about this man, she could tell her little cousin really liked him, maybe even loved him. It made her happy knowing that the people she loved could find someone that they genuinely enjoy spending time with.

"Give it time, Richie. The connection will cut back in, it always does. Then you can talk to your boyfriend again."

"No, Fer. He’s… I- I like him a lot, but he’s not my boyfriend... I mean, we used to be something, but I don’t really know what we are right now..." Richie frowned.

Without the other two realizing it, the connection had already cut back in, and Patrick had never left. However, a slight cough through the monitor made Richie’s heart beat out of his chest. What had Patrick heard?

_"Um... Richie?"_

"¡Me lleva la chingada!"

His cousin laughed at his cherry red face, even as he tried to push her from the room to talk privately.

_"I like you too, Richie."_

Richie steeled himself, and took a second to calm down before going back to the computer and seeing Patrick sitting there with a satisfied grin and a slight blush across his cheeks.

"So..."

 _"So. We might be boyfriends again, huh?"_ Patrick smirked even as Richie groaned.

"We might be."

Laughing at each other, they had kept talking through the night. They didn't have to talk all the time though. They were content to just be there. There would be times where Richie would pick up a magazine and read to Patrick because Patrick loved his voice, or Richie would take a small nap and Patrick would be waiting for him when he woke up. There was no pressure to do anything or say anything you didn't want. And Richie liked that.

Smiling at the memory, Richie slid out of bed in only a pair of boxers and Patrick’s shirt. He always stole Patrick’s clothes. He made his way barefoot across hardwood floors, and saw Patrick with his screen paused on some testing program for a videogame. Richie walked over to Patrick and kissed him, making Patrick grin as he knew what Richie was thinking about.

"I love you more and more every day, Richie."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reason 2: The first time we met.

On the next Saturday, Richie woke up expecting to find another note on his pillow, but there wasn't one. Patrick was already gone, scheduled to meet with a hardware company for something related to graphic cards. Thinking he may have moved the note, he searched the bed but couldn't find anything. Giving up, he got dressed and went to the kitchen where he made a cup of coffee - black, always black.- and ate a quick bowl of cereal before heading to his barber shop to do some administrative duties so everything was in order for when he and Patrick went to visit his family in San Francisco in a week. He was excited because he missed his family, and they always made sure they could visit California at least twice each year, so neither of them got too homesick.

He turned on the light in the small office when he arrived after greeting his manager and the other workers. Patrick hadn't left a note in bed because he left one taped to Richie’s computer monitor. Taking the note, he set down his coffee and got settled before reading it.

_'Reason 2: The first time we met’_

Richie remembered the night fondly. Meeting Patrick on a bus. He seemed lost, and Richie liked pretty blue eyes after all, so he decided to show some interest on this particular stranger. Nothing to lose.

"You lost?"

Patrick gave him a quick glance.

“Ahm… No, I’m just checking something.”

Richie evaluated him silently.

"Looking at the map makes you look lost."

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

Would he get mad if Richie kept pushing? Only one way to find out.

“Where you going?”

The guy exhaled, almost annoyed. Almost.

“To a party.” The guy sitting in front of him stood up, and Richie decided to take the chance. “What about you?”

He sat right in front of him. His back against the cold glass window, he continued to look at the guy’s eyes staring intently at him. Questioning his decision to move from his original seat.

“Couldn’t hear you.” Richie said with a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. Patrick raised his eyes, confused. The rest was history. _Their_ history.

Richie placed the note to the side by his computer so he could look at it whenever. He heard the door open and he heard Patrick call out his name before coming to the small office, graciously greeting everyone at the barber shop with his best Spanish impression. Patrick knocked and Richie said "Come in," before the door opened to reveal him.

"Hey. Good morning. I got the graphic cards I was looking for, and I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to that sushi place on the corner for lunch. I think they have some new meal or something."

Taking note that Patrick didn't mention the notes unless Richie himself brought them up, he nodded and smiled. He was grateful that Patrick saw past his impulsiveness. He was grateful that he knew Patrick always made sure Richie felt good about himself. He was grateful that Patrick loved him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reason 3: The day we picked out Cleo.

When Richie woke up, he heard tiny claws scratch at the floor before his blanket got tugged on. He looked over the side of the bed to see Cleo, their two-year-old beagle. She had jumped up onto the side of the bed, begging to be picked up. Richie caved and picked her up, smiling as a wet tongue ran over his hand and then his face before the puppy clamored over onto Patrick. Patrick, for the most part, pointedly ignored the happy canine.

"Cleo!" Richie called, and the puppies head snapped towards Richie before she came thumping over, plopping herself down in the space on Richie’s chest and closing her eyes.

He fell back asleep for about an hour before he heard puppy whines, demanding food and fresh air. He slid out of bed, Cleo cradled to him, and pulled on a shirt before leaving Patrick asleep in their room. After letting Cleo out in the backyard to do her business, Richie moved to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for humans and canines alike. He filled Cleo's bowl with fresh water, and pulled her bag of dog food down from on top of the fridge. He saw the note as it floated to the floor. After he filled up Cleo's food bowl, he picked it up, wondering what it would say today.

_'Reason 3: The day we picked out Cleo'_

Richie remembered that day very clearly, not only because it was the day they got her, but because it meant they had a very important reason to stay together. Getting a pet together was a very big step in their relationship, something they couldn't turn back on.

They'd gone to the local shelter, where a day just for puppies to be adopted was going on. When they had gotten there, there had been puppies of all breeds and sizes in cages or playpens. At first, they had looked at a pug, but decided that it wasn't right for them. The pug had been a happy baby boy who was content to chew on his sister’s ear.

The only problem was that he would need so much attention, and while both Patrick and Richie were prepared for that, pugs needed more attention than normal. Finally, they had visited a pen holding a single beagle puppy. All her siblings had already been adopted, and she was left behind as the runt of the litter.

One of the volunteers for the day offered to let him enter the pen to meet her, and he had readily agreed. She was nervous at first, cautiously sniffing his hand before her tongue darted out to lick it. Patrick had entered too, and she had also taken to him, but not quite on the same level. They knew Cleo was theirs the instant the volunteer spoke up.

"Huh. That’s strange. She’s been isolated all day, she wouldn't go near anybody. We think she may have experienced some abuse before the shelter got her, so she’s been skittish. You're the only couple that she had approached. "

Richie, not about to let this puppy go, spoke up to Patrick.

"I want this one. She likes us and she’s perfect, Pato. "

Patrick had agreed, and they had adopted Cleo Murray-Donado. Patrick had told him later that night that he was glad they had waited until they got to Cleo. She was already very comfortable in her new home, intertwining herself happily around his and Patrick’s ankles. They had never regretted getting her, even when she chewed on Patrick’s headphone chords when she was teething or peed on a pair of Richie’s shoes when they couldn't get outside quick enough. She was their baby and they loved her, and the day she was adopted, they had a physical thing binding them. It was amazing.

Hearing Cleo clumsily run through the hall to the kitchen brought him back to the present. She slid into the kitchen and went straight to her food bowl. Richie leaned down and scratched her head for a minute before he smiled and spoke to her, "Your other dad is a goofball."

She helpfully ignored him in favor of scarfing down another bite.


End file.
